


Killing Hope

by TransformersG1fan271



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Don't know why and I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby, Other, i don't know why, i wanted to write angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-28 20:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7655272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransformersG1fan271/pseuds/TransformersG1fan271
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Hancock comes running back to Goodneighbor, only to run right into the worst chapter of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> If you have seen this before it is because I've posted this on my Deviantart :3  
> Here's a link --> http://transformersg1fan271.deviantart.com/

It wasn’t rare to see people running in the ruins of any city, no doubt from some sort of attack or running for their lives, no doubt from some sort of attack or running for their lives, it was something not too many people focused on and thus ignored. However to see a ghoul clad in a bright red get up with the most pompous hat one could ask for certainly wouldn’t have usually gone amiss save for the current rad storm raging outside. Hancock slowed when he came close to the town he loved dearly, pausing to catch his breath and fix his clothes, even though he was thinking of a million different things when he approached the entrance. He had gotten a distressed sounding message from Fahrenheit and abandoned a certain bewildered vault dweller in the middle of rebuilding a settlement to return to his town, swallowing down his panic and he stepped through the doors.

 

 _”Well well look who’s returned!"_ Hancock felt his blood freeze as several guns were aimed at him, the ghoul freezing mid-grab for his hidden gun. The hatred in his black eyes were clear as a man stepped forward from behind the wall of mobsters, revealing the brother of Goodneighbor’s former mayor with a sneer on his face.

 

 _”Larson.”_ The ghoul replied coolly, grunting moments later when a mobster came up from behind and kicked the back of his legs, forcing him to his knees as Larson strode over and delivered a hit with the butt of his pistol.

 

 _”I would shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill one of these fucked up pieces of trash that live in this shit hole.”_ The mob boss sneered, Hancock glaring right back at the man as he was forced onto his feet. _”Throw him in with the others, I want him to see what his absence has done to the freaks.”_

 

Hancock was seething as he struggled against his captors as they locked him in the Statehouse basement, his heart freezing however when he took in the state of _his_  citizens, the people he had sworn to protect when he killed Vic and hung the bastard for all to see. Most people were patched up with rags and some were in desperate need of a stimpack, yet thankfully everyone was accounted for and very much alive for the time being. He noted KL-EO had somehow been forced into a shutdown state and was propped up against a wall like a broken doll, Daisy beside her friend tending to someone just out of view.

 

 _”I…I’m sorry.”_ Fahrenheit coughed when he found her being tended to by Daisy, the mayor kneeling beside her as he looked over her battered body with a hard frown. _”I fought the best…I could…but it wasn’t enough…ah fuck!”_ She hissed when Daisy pressed her side with a damp cloth, the ghoul shaking her head with a sigh.

 

”You did just fine, everyone’s here and alive." He clasped arms with the woman, who sighed in irritation as she lay her head back against the bag full of sand behind her.

 

 _”Damn it John I should have done fucking better. Larson completely got the drop on us, and had I not been patrolling it would have been a fucking massacre."_ The mayor nodded as he glanced around at his people once again, noting most were staring right back at him with hope and at a loss of what to do next.

 

Hancock frowned to himself, pushing back his doubt as began to check in with his people and try his best to raise their spirits as well as starting to come up with some sort of plan on how to get out and take back their town from this mobster who thought he had a fucking right to it. The mobster returned for Hancock later that next day, the man kicking and fighting with his citizens as they fought back against the mobsters in a bid for freedom, only to be mowed down with a brief bout of gunfire. Hancock was dragged out screaming in anger, his left leg bleeding from a nasty gunshot wound to his thigh and his arms bound behind his back to prevent the ghoul from lashing out as Larson only laughed and left the surviving people to pick up the pieces and determine who was still alive or who was dead.

 

It was the first time in a long time Goodneighbor’s people started to give up hope.


	2. Sneaking In and Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Survivor gets angry and with some help gets into what's left of Goodneighbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The relationship between the Survivor and Hancock is basically friends with benefits, but there is a bit more romance than you would think in said relationship.
> 
> Hancock is adorable, I mean come on.

They never brought Hancock back, and as the weeks dragged on word spread of Goodneighbor being nothing more than a place to go and die by the hands of Larson or his men, something Vic had never achieved to such a level. The people of Goodneighbor were cast out a few months once Larson grew bored of torturing the same people over and over, the people traveling together as they went towards the Sanctuary settlement they had heard Hancock speak about time and time again. Understandably the settlers were surprised to see the citizens arrive at their doorstep almost begging for help, but by the end of their three day journey they all had stopped caring and were grateful for the help they received. The Survivor spread out aid once she returned from the vault nearby, confused and worried to see Hancock missing from this ragtag group she had come to know due to running in and out of Goodneighbor for various errands and quests to run.  
  
 _“We don’t know where John is…haven’t seen that boy since this damn thing started.”_ Daisy shook her head with a sigh, cigarette between her lips as she sat by KL-EO who was being worked on by Sturges.   
  
_“What should we do? We can’t just leave him there.”_ Kent said weakly from nearby, having collapsed after pushing himself to the limit hiding a gunshot wound that had unfortunately gotten infected. Thankfully being a ghoul meant he wouldn’t die from it, but he was rendered useless until further notice.  
  
 _“We won’t honey, I’m going to get Hancock out of there.”_  
  
The Survivor said softly, squeezing the ghoul’s hand before getting to her feet and going for the radio in her old home. As much as it burned not to go gallivanting into Goodneighbor with guns blazing she needed to know what the hell was going on and how to approach the place. Thankfully for her the Railroad offered to do recon and work with the Minutemen to find the easiest route into the town that was now devoid of anyone but Larson’s men, something she had to be content with for the time being. For the next several weeks the Railroad kept an eye on Goodneighbor as Larson’s men attacked caravans to keep themselves sustained, for some reason staying far from one of Hancock’s warehouses, heavy guards posted at all times. They alerted the Survivor when an opportunity opened up, she and several Railroad agents going undercover as an innocent caravan that was ambushed by Larson’s men for the alcohol and food they carried. Deacon strangled one of the drunken stragglers and took his place as the group was lead to the town square, the mobster already having a bottle of whiskey in his hand as he circled the group.  
  
 _”We’re gonna let you live, only because you were so nice to give us some much needed supplies. Throw them in the cells…but bring me the woman.”_ Deacon had to bite back an angered reply as he helped forced the rest of the caravan deep into the State House, dropping the key to the door he had palmed just within reach of one of the Railroad agents. He then cozied his way into Larson’s little gang to get every drop of intel he could without acting suspicious, a few days later being sent to guard the warehouse with some guys who looked downright terrified of what was inside. Deacon could have sworn he heard growls from inside but didn’t ask what was locked up, just kept guard silently while holding the Survivor was holding up alright….if at all.  
  
To her credit she was tougher than when she had first left the Vault, but having Larson chain her up and torment her both physically and mentally was wearing on even her hardened spirit, the woman silently begging for help one night after the man had drunk himself into a stupor. Unknown to her he knew exactly who she was, and the next morning she was roused from her daze with a slap that could be heard in the basement of the State House.  
  
 _”So, the ghoul-fucker decided to sneak into my little place huh?”_ He grinned from over his glass filled with whiskey, the woman narrowing her eyes after the shock had passed. _”Yea, I know who you are. Come running back to Goodneighbor to save the town and defeat the bad guy huh? Jokes on you bitch, ain’t gonna happen.”_  
  
 _”Oh yes it will bastard.”_ She hissed after spitting some blood onto the worn floor. _”Where the hell is he?”_  
  
 _”Who? Oh, you must mean that shitty ass mayor right? Oh I’ll take ya to him, just right after I have some last bit of fun with ya.”_ The Survivor struggled as he went down on her, the woman a silent crying mess with both arms broken when she was dragged half-clothed by two thugs after Larson. Deacon saw red as he watched them pass but stayed silent as he was ordered to go run some sort of errand unfortunately out of sight from her. The walk to Hancock’s storehouse was humiliating and agonizing for the Survivor, but she kept from releasing any more tears when she was pushed inside and the door locked.  
  
 _”So I’ve got a deal for ya. Last through the day and tomorrow night, and I’ll let you and yer buddies go free, alright?”_ Larson grinned from the door, his men snickering and shaking their heads. _”If not…well you’ll be dead and we’ll have so much fun with your corpse, alright? Good luck bitch.”_ With that Larson was gone and the Survivor noted a stimpack buried in some dirt, gasping in pain as she healed her left arm that had been completely useless with her right wrist still broken and almost unusable.  
  
The growl right behind her made the Survivor freeze in absolute terror.


	3. Taking Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to act, but will it be too late?

Adopting the stance of someone drunk but proud Deacon and some of Larson’s men returned with more alcohol from another unsuspecting caravan, known only to himself that it was more Railroad agents that were carrying drugged alcohol and food specifically for Goodneighbor. By nightfall the men were passed out all over the place, Deacon the only one conscious as he quickly freed the group from the basement and rearmed them while explaining where the Survivor was. The group tied up everyone they came across and made their way to the warehouse under the cover of darkness, soon under fire from the guards that hadn’t received the drugged goods and were doing their best to keep them away from the warehouse.  
  
Inside the Survivor was faring no better, trying to quiet her breathing as she clutched a broken pipe close to her chest with her eyes blurring with tears and blood. She would have shivered in the cold had she not been wearing an all too familiar red coat, the thick fabric great at quieting her movements from the demented cat and mouse game she had been playing all day. Having slowly turned at the growling behind her the Survivor had paled before quickly dropping to the floor and rolling to her left as the beast lunged with another vicious noise.  
  
It was no beast though, it was Hancock.  
  
The ghoul was missing his trademark coat and hat, needles from various drugs that had been forced into his system still sticking out from all over his body as he scrambled to his feet to chase after the woman. The Survivor ran for cover behind some crates, silent as she heard Hancock growling as he searched for her, some Jet canisters being kicked away past her hiding spot. Spying a broken pipe poking out from some rubble the Survivor considered her options before making a run for it, Hancock snarling when he saw her sprinting for it. The ghoul made an impressive jump to land on her back, the two falling in a heap as he continued to claw her apart, the pre-war woman fighting back as she clawed for the pipe somewhere behind her. Hancock felt something collide with his head moments later and the world spun as the Survivor hit him again and again before running off to go hide in the warehouse, the ghoul briefly knocked out on the floor. The Survivor felt nothing but guilt for hurting him, but knew if she didn’t stay on top of her game he would easily kill her in his feral state, the woman taking a few deep breaths before trying to work out a way to get free. The entire day was spent fighting Hancock and avoiding him as much as she could, but she failed first when there was gunfire from outside that distracted her, Hancock tackling her and forcing her to the floor.  
  
 _”Hancock, babe, please! Please, it’s me!”_ She begged the berserk man as they wrestled with each other, biting back whimpers of pain as she forced her broken hand to press Hancock away from her. _”Don’t do this!”_ The ghoul seemed to not have heard her, one hand finally latching onto her throat as they heard banging on the door a few feet away from them. The room began to swim in her eyes as the Survivor noticed a glint from Hancock’s belt, a knife that had somehow managed to stay on him all this time, grunting with effort as she grabbed it and looked into those all too familiar black eyes boring into hers.  
  
 _”I’m sorry.”_  
  
From outside Deacon heard a loud roar before absolute silence, the Railroad agent shooting the lock open in a panic and darting into the darkness.


	4. Freedom At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally over.
> 
> ....or is it?

_”Hey, answer me Sole!”_ Deacon called out, heart racing as he searched high and low for signs of anyone or anything. Hearing something to his right Deacon raised his gun as he slowly stalked forward, heart freezing when he passed some crates and set his eyes on two figures.  
  
 _”Please…help us…”_ Hancock looked like absolute shit, his face gaunt just as much as much as the rest of his body was from the lack of nutrition and he was shaking from not only being overdosed but from withdrawal at the same time. His eyes were wide and pleading as Deacon knelt beside him, his arms cradling the Survivor close to his chest. _”Please…I don’t…”_  
  
 _”Hey man, it’ll be okay.”_ Deacon said calmly, calling for a doctor when he finally got a good look at the Survivor whose eyes were screwed shut in pain stemming from the knife lodged in her side. It took the combined manpower of six guys to pry Hancock off the Survivor so she could be rushed to Goodneighbor to be treated, the ghoul thrashing in their grip as he called out to her.  
  
 _”You calm down or get shot down, your choice.”_ Deacon snapped clearly, Hancock glaring at the other but finally stopped struggling. _”Tell us what happened, I want to hear it all.”_   
  
_”Hear what?”_ He snarled, not trusting anyone at the moment except the Survivor. _”I want her…I can’t...focus…I need her.”_  
  
 _”Deacon, you’re needed.”_ Nick’s voice cut in with an authority that made everyone in the room turn to look. It was clear that pre-war Nick was taking charge and no one dared fuck with the guy, not even Deacon who left without much protest. Snapping his fingers the rest of the men left with looks of uncertainty, not knowing if Hancock would charge Nick due to his unstable state. Hancock had to bite back a glare as Nick sat from across him, a cigarette lit and between his lips before Hancock could blink.  
  
 _”Go away Nick…I don’t…I…”_ Hancock winced as his old friend shook his head, the real Nick taking reign once again.  
  
 _”Need you to calm down pal. Gettin’ worked up over nothing isn’t going to help ya.”_ He took another drag, observing Hancock pace back and forth with his whole body jittering as if he was freezing to death. _”She’s gonna be fine, and once you get over…this…you’ll be fine too.”_  
  
 _”I stabbed her…I did it…and I…god fuck!”_ Hancock snarled, Nick quickly up on his feet and reaching out with a steady hand.  
  
 _”Don’t go feral on me, you need to let the drugs run their course.”_ Nick warned, Hancock giving him a sarcastic look with another snarl of rage at not only himself but Larson. _”I know you didn’t do it on purpose, so don’t go blamin’ yourself.”_ Hancock wanted to argue, he really did but he knew Nick was right, even as another wave of rage overtook him and he attacked Nick with a roar, the synth struggling against the ghoul until a whack to the forehead with his trusty pistol knocked the other out.   
  
It took another two days before the drugs finally left his system, leaving Hancock exhausted and too weak to even walk as Nick carried him back to Goodneighbor. He no longer felt a feral rage, but he could still see the uncertainty in people’s faces as he was carried into Daisy’s place to be put to rest. The Minutemen were clearing out the place and cleaning it up so when the citizens arrived home everything wouldn’t be in shambles, something they were grateful for when the group arrived the next day. The Survivor welcomed each person and made sure everyone got situated, nearly jumping out of her skin when she felt familiar arms wrap around her middle and a kiss placed on the back of her neck.  
  
 _”I’m sorry babe…”_ Hancock whispered into her ear, one hand tracing the freshly healed wound with a soft growl.  
  
 _”I know, it wasn’t your fault.”_ She murmured back, relaxing into his hold as they watched everyone from the balcony of the State House rebuild the city they so loved under the watchful eye of the mayor they had complete trust in.


End file.
